


The Ties That Bind

by daytripper14



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, F/M, Fix-It, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Steve is sad, Tony is sad, eventually, everyone is sad, probably, this calls for a group hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-08 10:31:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11079762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daytripper14/pseuds/daytripper14
Summary: How do you rebuild a relationship broken beyond the point of recognition?





	1. Phobia

**Author's Note:**

> Starting a series about The Avengers rebuilding after Civil War. Using prompt table #4 from this link: http://100-situations.livejournal.com/573083.html  
> I'm planning to go through numerically and bring the prompt into each chapter in some way. This chapter was phobia. I hope you enjoy! Thank you so much for reading!

The Avengers weren't doing...great, to say the least. They had spent some time apart, all licking their wounds and building up the courage to talk to each other after their civil war. Most of them were still on okay-ish terms. Clint and Natasha acted as though nothing had ever happened, and T'challa had neither known nor cared about any of them enough to hold a grudge. For a while, Wanda and Vision had hardly been able to look at each other, let alone be in any room together, but it seemed that time was healing their relationship. A few weeks back, they started to make shy advances toward becoming friends again, offering cups of coffee to each other, giving small smiles every once in a while. Getting back to normal. Scott and Peter had become full-fledged Avengers, though Peter had to split his time between the team and school. The two of them were just excited to be a part of the group. Rhodey had recovered about as much as he ever would, and, though he permanently had to use the contraption Tony had built for him to walk, he was mobile. He was also still able to use the War Machine armor, and, surprisingly enough, he still actually wanted to use it. Sam and Bucky were a bit more of an issue. Though they seemed to be getting along at least part of the time, they were so unflinchingly loyal to Steve that it often caused tension when they refused to listen to anything Tony said. And then there was Steve.

Steve and Tony were not on good terms. As much as Tony tried not to think about it, he couldn't pretend that he wasn't hurt. Every time he saw Steve and Bucky bantering and laughing, he saw again the image of Bucky killing Maria, and he saw Steve slamming the shield into Tony's chest. Maybe he had PTSD. Who knew. It's not like he was going to see a shrink about it.

The whole team had moved back into the mansion, which was helping everyone, Tony thought, as they had recently reinstated team movie nights and milkshake trips every Sunday. Everyone was settling in, except Tony, who avoided Steve at all costs. On the day everyone moved back in, Steve had walked very purposefully up to Tony, one hand outstretched, and said, "I'm glad to be back, Tony." That was all. Very polite, very dignified, and so not even close to the apology Tony knew he deserved. Stomach tied in knots, he nodded and grasped the other man's hand, using his business handshake, and replied, "Good to have you." Steve had walked away to hug Natasha, leaving Tony behind to feel the weight of the past crashing down on him.

Since then, the two of them were civil to each other, but Tony was withdrawn, even among the rest of the team. He never knew what to say or who on the team didn't despise him. So, he avoided them, and threw himself into his work, only making appearances when he was called to fight.

It was during one of these fights, with Baron Zemo, that Tony was knocked out of the sky and fell, only saved by the safety measures he had implemented after falling out of literal space. Seriously, when did his life get so weird? After he hit the ground, everything went black. He didn't know quite how long he was out, but when he awoke he was in pitch blackness, in a space hardly small enough to fit him. He was also missing the Iron Man and clad only in the black T-shirt and boxers he always wore underneath. Maybe Zemo had just run out of places to put prisoners, or maybe he knew that Tony was severely claustrophobic. Regardless, it didn't take long for the panic attacks to set in. The super fun thing about his panic attacks was that they built on each other, so that one reminded him of others he'd had, bringing up old issues and creating an avalanche. He didn't know how long he lay there, gasping for air and scratching desperately at the walls of his prison.

However, his panicked brain assured him that he would stay trapped there forever. Tony knew with absolute certainty that nobody would come to rescue him, and that his team was simply relieved to have gotten rid of him. There was nobody at all in his life who truly cared for him. He would be trapped here forever, and this time he didn't have scraps of metal to help him escape. His life was over.

Eventually, the panic evolved into a quiet maelstrom of flashbacks playing across the backs of his eyelids. He curled into a ball to try to protect himself from the onslaught, but, in the darkness, there was no escape. Tony saw over and over again the footage of his parents being murdered. He saw himself falling from the sky, saw the arc reactor in his chest and Yinsen's body riddled with bullets. The images went back in time, all the way to his father, standing over 6-year-old Tony and holding a belt. Tony couldn't even panic anymore, could only lay numbly as the images played and replayed, on and on and on.

Tony thought he was dreaming when his eyelids turned red. He scrunched them tighter and hugged his knees closer to himself. A familiar voice said his name once, twice, then became more muffled as it turned away and muttered something Tony couldn't comprehend. He still felt trapped and alone and numb. A second later, two strong hands reached under him and pulled him up, and he knew with a sudden flash of clarity that Zemo had come to take him, to kill him, probably. Tony's limbs sprang to life and he thrashed around, beating and shouting at the person carrying him, but the arms were too strong.

"Tony, stop. I'm taking you home. You're safe."

The words clicked into place slowly, letter by letter, but the voice surprised him before he had even registered the actual sentence. Steve.

"Steve?" Tony tried to say, but his voice was rough. Finally, he opened his eyes and looked into the other man's face. They hadn't moved since Steve had pulled Tony from the box, but were simply standing with Tony cradled in Steve's arms. Clearing his throat, he said, "Um, you can put me down now."

"Oh, right, of course." The blonde set Tony on his feet and looked away awkwardly, reminding Tony that he wasn't actually wearing pants. A year ago, Steve wouldn't have even noticed that, so accustomed had they been to each other. Tony tried to ignore the small pang in his heart at the thought of the friendship he'd lost.

"So...what happened?"

Steve bit his lip and looked down, the look he always got when he felt guilty about something, like the time he'd accidentally broken Tony's favorite coffee mug.

"You remember fighting the Masters of Evil, I assume? Well, right when Zemo managed to knock you out of the sky, about a dozen reinforcements joined the fight. No one important, just cronies he had managed to round up. So everyone's attention was on them, just for a minute, maybe less, and we didn't see you fall, but when we looked back you were gone. Zemo must have used them as a distraction so he could take you. He's been trying to use you as leverage since he took you, demanding everything from money to weapons to my shield. Natasha came up with a plan to meet with him and pay ransom, then follow him to his hiding place, where we figured he would be keeping you. It's lucky he's predictable and got a one-track mind, or the plan never would have worked. But as soon as the money was in his hands, he stopped paying attention to anything else. So we followed him, we kicked his ass, and we found you. The rest of the team is waiting outside, I just thought you might need a minute to collect yourself."

"Consider me collected." Tony tried to smirk, but it was weak. "How long have I been here?"

"A little over two days," Steve replied, getting his guilty look again. "I'm sorry it took so long."

Tony, sighing, said, "I didn't know if you would come at all."

The super soldier seemed offended by this. "And why wouldn't I have come to rescue you?"

"Because you hate me." The simple words stabbed Tony like a knife to the gut as they passed his lips. Actually, it was worse than a knife to the gut. He could compare experiences.

Steve let out an indignant huff of air and seemed for a moment unsure what to say or how to react. "Well that's just..." He trailed off and threw his hands into the air, searching for the right word. "That's just stupid, is what it is. And besides, you're my teammate. How could I possibly leave you behind."

"You've done it before," Tony replied sadly, staring intently at Steve's left shoe when he spoke.

Steve shook his head and took a step back. "You are unbelievable, Tony. I thought you understood. I thought we were past this."

"You slammed your shield into my chest! You defended the man who killed my parents! And then, what, you write me a letter? You didn't have the balls to apologize to my face? We were friends, Steve, and you threw that away like it meant nothing. How could I possibly be past that?" Tony was yelling, and the whole team could probably hear him, but he didn't care.

"I was defending a victim of brainwashing who you probably would have killed if I hadn't stepped in between you! Never mind that he's my friend, you wouldn't have been able to live with yourself if you'd killed him." Steve's volume matched his, and it was good, it gave him a reason to keep yelling.

Tony's pent-up anger and hurt were boiling over, and he couldn't find a way to push it all back down. "Oh, don't pretend you did anything for me. Were you trying to help me when you kept the truth from me for two years? No, you never thought about anyone but yourself and your precious Bucky. You never gave a rat's ass about me."

With a frustrated growl, Steve began to pace, running a hand through his hair. "Tony, I–I–" He was obviously at a loss for words, which was all for the better, because Tony felt too sick to his stomach to hear any more excuses.

"I apologized for not believing you about Zemo. I came to help you that day. I recognized my mistake and I was on your side. But you didn't need me, you had Bucky, and you made a choice not just to mediate, but to fight on his side. And that letter you sent, telling me the Avengers are 'mine?' It was bullshit. You can have them. Maybe you'll learn something about being a friend from them. But I'm done."

With that, Tony walked away, brushed through the team standing outside the door, trying to pretend they hadn't been listening. Peter held out a clean pair of jeans as Tony walked past, which he stopped to slide on and button up before continuing on his way. He left the armor behind there, too–he had plenty of them at his real home in New York.


	2. Addict

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who's read and given kudos so far. Comments and questions are always appreciated!

It had been a while since Tony had come to one of the meetings. Less time since he had last had alcohol. Way less time. In fact, was showing up drunk to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting frowned upon? He couldn't bring himself to care. He listened to the other members of the group bitch about their silly problems, fights with their kids, bosses that micromanaged. It was all a farce.

When it was his turn, he stood up, though he was wobbly, and slurred, "You think you have problems? You don't know what problems are. Maybe you saw me on the news recently, because my business is sinking and my ex-girlfriend, the CEO of my company, hates me. Or maybe you saw that I got kidnapped by a supervillain and left the Avengers. Those are problems. You idiots wouldn't know a problem if it hit you in the face. You're all lying to yourselves and to each other, when we all know you'll go home after this meeting and get drunk like you always do. Fuck this." He walked out of the room, accidentally stepping on some feet and knocking chairs over as he left. He was getting pretty good at walking out on people after dramatic speeches.

Tony stumbled into the back seat of the car waiting outside, then told Happy to take him to the usual bar. A small piece of him felt guilty for having a usual bar again, but the rest of him shushed that piece. He was at the bar for hardly two minutes before he exited again, dragging a pretty, young blonde behind him by the hand. She was giggling as she slid onto the black leather car seat, and Tony hated her for it, so he pressed his lips against hers to shut her up. The trip to Avengers tower was a blur, the elevator ride with her giggling was a nightmare. Finally, they made it to his room, where he shoved off his clothes and lay back on the bed, letting her do all the work. The ceiling was white, stark, and he stared at it, feeling nothing as she worked her mouth around his cock. He did only enough to make her think it was a great night.

The next morning, he was already gone when she woke up, and JARVIS directed her to leave. Tony sat in his workshop doing nothing but sipping from a bottle of scotch and staring at the white ceiling. If the Avengers could only see him now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously I'm not going to just solve everything with the avengers right away! Where would be the angst in that?
> 
> Next chapter: Dance


	3. Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to everyone enjoying this so far! I'm having so much fun writing it. As always, I'd love to hear any feedback you have.

The batter sizzled as Steve poured another pancake onto the grill. He'd added cinnamon, giving the whole kitchen an autumnal sort of scent. The rest of the team was watching him as he maneuvered the spatula under a fully-cooked pancake and deposited it onto an already far too large pile. The whole team would have to eat at least three pancakes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner to get rid of the pile, and they debated amongst themselves whether one of them should stop him. For the fifth morning in a row, Steve was cooking an inordinately large amount of breakfast. They decided not to take the spatula away from him, because the rhythm of cooking seemed to soothe him in some inexplicable way.

It was the fifth morning since Tony had left. Steve had been quiet, reserved, similar to the way he was when he first came out of the ice and he was disoriented and lonely. The team was walking on eggshells, he knew, trying not to say or do anything that would make him snap. When he thought about it, he was pretty sure he already had snapped.

Right after their fight, he had felt indignant and defensive and had resolved not to consider anything that Tony had said to him. After all, he was right. Right? A couple of hours later, he realized that his unwillingness to take what Tony had to say into consideration had led the group to fission. It wasn't like Tony was blameless or anything. Tony had made his mistakes. It was just that, before their recent fight, Steve had believed, truly, that he was the one on the right side of things. But maybe it wasn't so black and white. During the war, it had been easy to know with absolute certainty who the good guys and the bad guys were, but that approach didn't work so well in the 21st century.

On the seventh day, Steve was making French toast when he felt arms slip around his waist from behind.

"Sharon?"

"Aunt Peggy told me once that you like to dance," she said, gently turning him to face her and swaying to a silent song. With a small laugh, she continued, "She said you weren't very good."

Steve chuckled, small and sad, more of a huff of air than anything, and rested his forehead on the top of Sharon's head. "It's true. Nobody ever thought to teach a poor scrawny kid how to dance, so I can't do much more than this. It's nice, though. Not so complicated when there are no steps to remember." For a few minutes, they rocked back and forth together and didn't speak a word, simply finding comfort in the other person's presence.

"You miss him," Sharon stated after a while. It wasn't a question.

"No, I don't." His response was too quick, too defensive.

"He's your best friend."

"Bucky's my best friend."

Sharon sighed and hugged him tighter. "Bucky was your best friend," she corrected. "But he's not just Bucky anymore. You can still love him as much as you always have, but there's room for you to love other people, too, Steve."

"Tony and I..." The words caught in his throat. What was there to say about he and Tony?

Sharon picked up where he left off. "You and Tony both fucked up. You hurt each other. But you're both still alive and you have long lives ahead of you and it's stupid to sit around missing each other when you could go and see him. You have to be willing to look past Captain America and Iron Man and see the people underneath."

They had stopped moving at some point, and instead just stood holding each other. "I think I really hurt him. I don't know if we can come back from this."

Sharon pulled back slightly and looked into his eyes, a small smile on her face. "Cheesy as it sounds, you won't know until you try." He gazed down at her, trying to identify her features that looked most like Peggy. He could see the family resemblance in the nose and around the eyes, but mostly it was her smile: full of self-confidence, slightly sad, with just a hint of something that looked like pride, in him, maybe. It was the smile Peggy gave him all those years ago when he jumped into the plane to take down Red Skull. The last smile he saw before he froze.

Clint popped his head around the corner then, looking slightly uncomfortable. "Hey, so, are you guys going to make out or something? Because I'm trying to give you some privacy but I'm really starving."

Sharon snorted in response and disengaged from their embrace completely. "No, I don't think my boyfriend would like that. Speaking of," she checked her clock, "I've got a date." Sharon tilted her head toward Steve and said, "And so do you. Go apologize. Don't be a dick about it."

"Thanks Sharon, always helpful," he replied sarcastically. He meant it, though. She was a good friend to have. Clint, meanwhile, "snuck" around them, trying to quietly make a sandwich while in fact leaving a mess of condiments and deli items in his wake. Steve walked Sharon to the door and hugged her goodbye, then changed into his workout clothes to go for a run. He needed to think about some things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though I prefer writing from Tony's point of view, I could not figure out a way to work dance into the story with Tony. Next chapter: Sing.


	4. Sing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to everyone that has taken the time to read and respond! It's such a great motivation for me to keep writing, and you all help me think more deeply about the characters as I write new chapters. Please keep leaving comments!

Tony woke up to a pounding in his head, deep and painful and unrelenting. At least he had a solution. Rolling over, he reached out to his bedside table and grabbed the bottle of vodka sitting there, taking a swig and sitting up. He had to perform some contortions to make it out of the bed without waking up the few girls and guys still sleeping. The last few days were a complete blur, but he was fairly certain they involved DUM-E seeing some things that would scar him for life.

As Tony walked down the stairs, he saw the robot in question, which handed him a glass of water and some Advil. DUM-E received a pat on the head as thanks. The pounding started up again, though this time it seemed to be coming from the door rather than from his brain. Shuffling up to the door with bare feet and no clothes on but grey sweatpants, he opened the door to find his best friend standing there.

"Happy told me you'd be here." Tony rubbed his eyes and nodded, then jerked his head in an invitation for Rhodey to come inside. He collapsed onto the couch while Rhodey got a pot of coffee brewing.

"You look like shit."

"Well, I feel like shit," Tony replied. He was the most sober he'd been in days, which was really saying something since he still felt pretty buzzed. Rhodey brought him a cup of coffee, black, and pushed Tony's leg aside to make room for himself on the couch.

"How long were you sober before this?"

"Few years, I guess." 4 years, 3 months, and 6 days, to be exact. He hadn't had any alcohol since he blew up all of his suits. Until a couple of weeks ago, after he had imploded, and he'd been drunk pretty much nonstop since.

Rhodey looked tired, obviously stressed, and Tony knew he still had some pain from his injury. "I haven't talked to the team," he informed Tony. "I wasn't there for the fight, but when I heard about it I packed up my things and moved out. I wanted to give you some time to do what you were going to do, blow off some steam, but now it's time to piece you back together."

Tony's voice was bitter as he responded. "I'm not broken, Rhodes, I'm fine. You're acting like there's something wrong with me, but this is who I've always been. All that hero stuff, it was just play, acting a part. It's who you are, so you should go back to the team. You don't have to quit for my sake."

Rhodey blinked at him a few times, then stood. "Nope. That was some very good self pity, but now it's time to go get better. Forget about those jerks, you don't need friends who let you walk away and who don't fight for you." He held out a hand, which Tony hesitantly took.

"Where are we going?"

"We're going to karaoke. Lorelei Gilmore style. As in, I'm going to sing to you to make you feel better."

Tony snorted. "I don't know whether to focus on the fact that you're taking me to karaoke or that you watch Gilmore Girls."

"C'mon, Tony, everyone watches Gilmore Girls." Tony rolled his eyes, but let Rhodey start to pull him out the door.

"Oh, wait, um...should I kick out the people sleeping in my bed?"

His best friend paused, seeming slightly exasperated, then shrugged it off and responded, "Nah, they can find their own way out," and pulled Tony out the door.

Karaoke was weird. For a minute, Rhodey considered singing "I Will Always Love You" to Tony, who threatened to leave should he go through with it. Instead, he settled on "The Bitch Is Back" as, what he called, an inspirational song. Funny enough, Tony realized, it worked, and he felt like he was truly enjoying himself for the first time in a long time. The alcohol had worn off almost completely, and he was beginning to recognize the open path ahead of him. He was no longer tied down by the Avengers, a fact that was positive on many levels. The Sokovia Accords had only applied to the Avengers, not to autonomous heroes, who hadn't caused as much damage to the world as an entire team of super-powered people. Tony wished now that he hadn't spent so much of his time last year amending the Accords so that Steve would agree to them, and so the rest of the team would be pardoned by the government. It had been so much work, but in the end, the US preferred to have Captain America on its side. And Steve had shaken Tony's hand, and smiled his super soldier smile, and moved back into the mansion with the rest of the team.

In the meantime, Tony had worked out a way to make Bucky's mind permanently free, via a microchip implanted in his brain to deactivate the trigger words. He'd thought that making sure nobody else could ever experience what he had experienced would help him heal. And then, Bucky had come to New York and, though he didn't move in with the team, he was around far more often than Tony liked. They'd exchanged a few brief words of apology while Steve smiled on and told them he was glad they were working everything out. But they weren't, and they hadn't, and Tony had pushed everything down until the lid on his emotions cracked and shattered and they all came pouring out.

Somehow, karaoke helped him see this. It was the laughter and the sobriety and the sudden lack of pain that showed him how deeply hurt he had been before. After Rhodey was done serenading Tony with Elton John, he walked up, laughing, and slapped his friend on the back. "So? Did I or did I not tell you that karaoke would help?"

Tony laughed in response and said, "You were right. Never again will I doubt your mad karaoke skills."

Still chuckling, the other man replied, "That was just what I wanted to hear. I'm going to go hit the restroom, then let's get out of here." He walked off, and Tony headed slowly to the front door. They hadn't been in the karaoke place for too long, but the sky was just beginning to darken. He realized that he was starving, that he hadn't eaten an actual meal in a few days, and became impatient to leave so they could find some good junk food. Maybe shawarma.

"Tony."

Or maybe not shawarma.

The voice was just a whisper from off to the right, but he recognized it immediately. He took a few steps toward it until he was just a couple of feet away from a tall, blonde man in a leather jacket.

"Steve." A frown settled onto Tony's face. He wasn't sure if he was ready to feel the pain this meeting was causing him.

"Hi."

"How'd you know I was here?"

"Happy told me you were here."

Tony shuffled his feet. "I've really got to stop giving that guy my location."

One corner of Steve's mouth turned up. "I don't think that would work so well."

"Why are you here, Steve?" Tony kept his voice carefully monotone, his business voice.

"I just wanted to–" he broke off, glancing over Tony's shoulder. "Rhodes. How's it going?" Tony looked behind himself and saw Rhodey standing stone-faced, arms crossed. He nodded in response to Steve's question, but kept his eyes locked hard and steady on the super soldier.

"Tony," Steve said softly. "Do you mind if we talk, just the two of us?"

Tony sighed and brought a hand up to massage his temple. "I don't think there's anything else I have to say to you, Steve."

"But I–" he struggled for a second to find the words. "I have to tell you I'm sorry."

Tony looked back at his best friend again, who still stood expressionless behind him. The friend who had his back. "That doesn't mean anything anymore. Let's go, Rhodey." He turned and put a hand on Rhodey's shoulder, directing him toward the car where Happy was waiting.

"Tony!" Steve called from behind them. Tony's footsteps faltered, then paused, but he didn't turn around. "I was wrong. I know I was. Please, just call me, okay? We have to work this out." Tony's head fell, and he closed his eyes and breathed through the sadness ripping through him. His hand was still on Rhodey's shoulder, and he felt his friend reach up to gently squeeze his hand once. With a small nod, Tony began walking again.

They reached the car a minute later, where Happy opened the door for them to slide into the backseat. After the bodyguard had settled into the driver's seat, Tony called up, "Hey, Hap? No more giving out my location to anyone besides Rhodey and Pepper from now on."

Happy glanced at his boss in the rearview mirror, then nodded and said, "You got it, boss."

Rhodey started to say something, but Tony held up a hand. "Hold on, before I forget." He pulled out his phone and dialed a few buttons, then put it to his ear. "Pep? It's me. I know I've been MIA, but I have some ideas for the business that are going to bring us back up to number one. When can you meet?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a side note, if anyone is interested in following my shitty tumblr, you can find me at spirkkisses there.
> 
> Next chapter: Cruise (wtf???)


	5. Cruise

"You're on a what?!" Tony asked incredulously. He glanced up at Rhodey, who raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"How do you even have time to go on a cruise?...Well, yeah, I guess that's true....I am not obsessed with work!...Fine, you have a point, but still...When do you get back?...Tuesday? Great, I'll pick you up from the port and we can get lunch." He hung so she wouldn't have a chance to tell him no. Rhodey was still staring at him as if he was crazy.

"Pepper's on a cruise?"

"Pepper is on a cruise. I don't even know how to process that," Tony said, shaking his head. "She called me a workaholic and a drama queen."

Rhodey leaned his head back and sighed. "The Avengers are falling apart, and Pepper is on a cruise. Well, at least she's having a good week." Tony's only response was to laugh once without humor. They sat in silence for a few minutes, each deep in thought and meditating to the sound of the car's engine humming softly beneath them. Finally, Tony spoke.

"So. Steve showed up."

Shifting in his seat, Rhodey leaned his back against the side of the car to better face Tony. "He did. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. Yes. I don't know. What is there to talk about? You were right, what you said before. They all let me walk away."

Rhodey nodded slowly, not necessarily in agreement, but as a sign that he was processing what Tony had said. "They...did," he began hesitantly. "But you also value the Avengers, probably more than they deserve. They haven't always been good friends or treated you well, but it sounds like Steve may be starting to recognize that. I know you're hurting more than you'd like anyone to see. Maybe it would be worth it to talk to him and to the rest of the team. Even if you don't join back up, it could help you. Besides, since when do you back down from a challenge?"

Tony smiled and looked down at his hands, which were fiddling with his cufflinks. It hadn't taken long, back in the day, for Tony to fall in love with being an Avenger and with being part of something bigger than himself. He had reached for that feeling since he was kidnapped in the Middle East, and the team seemed like the thing that would help him make a difference. Maybe that was why he'd spent so many years overlooking the way they all took him for granted and treated him as though the only thing he brought to the table was his money. They had made him feel like his feelings and opinions didn't matter. Steve had made him feel that way. Then again, Steve had sought him out to apologize and to make amends. Didn't that count for something? Tony had been willing from the start to admit his mistakes and talk through their issues, and it seemed Steve was finally in the same place.

"I don't know that I'm ready to kiss and make up. But maybe I'm ready to try." Apparently, Tony couldn't even make it two weeks without considering crawling back to the Avengers. It was pathetic. He spent the remainder of the car ride conflicted, arguing with himself about his course of action. Until the explosion hit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Careen


	6. Careen

Tony jumped out of the car, activating his portable armor, as Rhodey followed, having already donned the War Machine armor. Tony was already a hundred feet in the air when his best friend's voice came through the coms system in his helmet.

"Tony, what do we got?"

"Not sure yet, Rhodey. We're just a couple of blocks away from Times Square, so it's chaos. We have to be careful." Tony, with FRIDAY's help, scanned the crowd for any clue as to what the fuck was going on. There were thousands of people scrambling in every direction, making it hard to identify the source of the explosion.

"Tony, I'm on the other side of the building. We've got a hostage situation at the entrance, but it looks like the bomb was a fake, just to scare everyone." Tony had reached Rhodey before he was even done speaking, and he finally got a good look at what was going on. The building was a hotel that, according to a quick search, was hosting a convention for members of Congress to celebrate a recent bill increasing the budget for big oil companies. It had been highly controversial among the American public, but Congress had managed to pass it by just a hair by claiming it would create jobs in the US. Apparently someone had seen through that bullshit. The group had formed a semicircle of picket signs outside the entrance to the hotel, all of which said something to the effect of: "Congress sucks dick." The picketers surrounded a smaller group of people, all of whom were holding guns and shouting at the hostages to stay down. Tony sighed and said to Rhodey, "This oughta be fun. Cover me from up here." With that, he flew down and landed next to the gunmen (and woman, he noticed, seeing a blonde ponytail).

"You know," he began as they turned their guns on him. "These parties are never fun, but they do give out some great food. Plus, open bar, unless the host is a stingy asshole."

"Shut the fuck up, Stark!" It seemed the woman was in charge, because she was the one who stepped forward and spoke to him. "You're just like all of them, sitting in your penthouse and reaping the benefits while the Earth burns." She aimed her gun at his chest and prepared to pull the trigger.

"I wouldn't do that. The bullets are just going to ricochet off of him and hit something or someone you weren't aiming for." The voice came from behind Tony, who looked back to find Captain America standing at his right flank.

The woman seemed taken off guard, and her hands shook a bit as she pointed her gun at a Steve instead. "Maybe I just shoot you, then." The timbre of her voice had dipped deeper, but it was obvious she hadn't planned on facing two superheroes. Still, she wasn't going to back down.

"You could," Steve said, and she seemed honestly surprised. He took a few steps forward, toward her, and she stumbled back once but did nothing more to threaten him. "But that wouldn't solve the problem. Something I learned recently is that violence only breeds more violence, until one day you look around and it seems like the whole world is upside down and you don't know how you got there." The woman was breathing heavily, and the people behind her looked uneasy. A crowd had started to form, but Rhodey quietly landed and herded the spectators out of the range of the guns should anyone start shooting. "Nobody is going to listen to you if you shoot me, or if you shoot the people in there. If you do that, you're going to go to jail and stay there until you die and what will you have to show for it?"

The woman looked down at her gun, then lowered it just a bit. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. I just can't stand seeing people who can't find food or water, who die, because–" she broke off, anger choking the words in her throat. "Because those people would rather drink champagne and wear fancy clothes than see the truth," she finished with a snarl as she raised her gun and again aimed her gun into the hotel.

It was impressive, Tony thought, to see Steve's speed up close. The super soldier tackled the leader in a split second and kicked her gun to Tony, who threw it to Rhodey, who stored it and landed to back up Steve and Tony. When their leader went down, the rest of the group took a second to process, then opened fire without aiming for anything in particular. Rhodey, with the help of NYPD, had luckily managed to remove any innocent bystanders from the scene. It was a simple matter for Tony and Rhodey to disarm and immobilize the rest of the group one by one. Cap stood, too, holding the leader of the extremist group with her hands behind her back. Tony sent a message to the cops that the coast was clear, and within seconds there were fire trucks, ambulances, and police cars on the scene. Fortunately, there were only minor injuries from the wild shooting that had occurred, and those were all easily patched up.

Tony was shaking hands with the police chief, who was thanking him for handling the situation, when a white semi truck careened into view and plowed through the line of official vehicles. Having lost its momentum, the truck stopped just a few yards away from the main scene. Later, Tony would learn from Rhodey that the driver of the vehicle was already dead, that his mission was to cause more destruction and kill as many people as possible for the extremists. Tony would learn that two EMTs died as a result of a direct collision with the truck, and that many more people, including members of Congress, firefighters, and members of the extremist group, were permanently injured. At the time, though, all he could think was that Steve had been right next to him and then he was gone.

The truck had caused most of the vehicles in the area to topple, but most people got out of the way in time. Steve didn't. Tony whipped around and saw the top of a blonde head sticking out from underneath a fire truck that was too heavy for Steve to push off of himself alone. Tony flew to him and tried to communicate, but the super soldier had blacked out. Tony told himself that was all, he was just passed out, not dead, and everything would be fine after the truck was off of him. At his command, FRIDAY redirected all possible power to the thrusters in Iron Man's boots. It was almost not enough, but the fire truck began to lift bit by bit until it was standing up straight. Tony cried out for medical attention, and EMTs rushed over with a gurney. They loaded Steve into it gently and ran with him to the ambulance. He watched as they slammed the doors, then took to the air to follow them as they raced to the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I definitely should've gone to bed two hours ago.
> 
> Next chapter: Psychic


	7. Psychic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who continues to read and comment. I love interacting with you all and I love that you feel strongly enough to take the time to respond to this story.

Tony was pacing, waiting to get an update from the doctors, when the sound of footsteps broke him out of replaying the fight in his head. The first one to turn the corner was Peter, who started running when he saw Tony and threw his arms around his mentor. "They said the accident was bad and that you were involved," he explained as he squeezed Tony around the middle then stepped back. Though he was a bit shocked, he couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. Peter looked like he'd grown another foot, and he seemed more jumpy than normal.

"I'm alright, Spidey. How's Aunt May?"

"Ugh," Peter groaned. "Would you drop that already? You don't get to date my aunt. How's Steve?"

Tony shook his head and rocked back on his heels with his hands in his pockets. The rest of the team had finally caught up to Peter, and they waited for his response. "Haven't heard anything yet. I'm not family, so they can't tell me anything. I told them he doesn't have any family, but we're the closest thing he's got, and they still wouldn't tell me anything." A few of the team members nodded and sat down. They were all there, and it struck Tony suddenly that this was the first time they'd all been together in almost a month. "So...this is awkward."

Hesitantly, Clint walked forward and clapped him on the shoulder. "Good to see you, Stark."

Sam, from his position in a nearby chair, leaned back and spread out and agreed, "Yep. Mansion seems small without you, man." The rest of the team smiled at him and nodded their ascent or chimed in with "yeah"s and "mmhmm"s. It was obvious he'd been a topic of conversation in his absence. Tony decided not to ask where Bucky was, not wanting to spoil a rare peaceful moment. None of them were particularly good with words, the inspirational speeches were Steve's thing, but there was something unspoken in the air as they sat together in the waiting room. Finally, the thing they were all waiting for happened: the elevator dinged, and out rolled a bald man in a dark gray suit. Sam jumped up, practically tripping over himself in his hurry to shake the man's hand.

"Professor, thank you so much for coming."

"I'm happy to be of service for my friends. I understand we know nothing at the moment, is that correct?" Without waiting for a response, Professor X closed his eyes and appeared as though he had fallen asleep. A couple of minutes passed in silence before the professor's eyes opened again. "He's fine. One of his legs is broken, and they had to perform an emergency surgery, but he's stable and will soon awaken. The doctors will come to speak with you shortly." It was overwhelmingly relieving to finally have some information after hours of imagining the worst possibilities. "You know where to find me should you need anything more," the professor called over his shoulder as he rolled back into the elevator. The doors closed behind him moments before a doctor rounded the corner and walked up to them.

"So, the Avengers. I gotta tell you, there was a lot of pressure in that OR not to screw up. You guys probably would've called Thor to kick my ass, huh?" His nervous laughter indicated that it was supposed to be a joke. Nobody was amused. The doctor cleared his throat awkwardly and continued in a deeper voice, "My name is Dr. Ross. The Captain made it through the surgery easily, and he should be waking up any minute now. He will make a full recovery and should have no lasting injury." He wouldn't. In all likelihood, he would be fully healed in a week. Two, tops.

The team was smiling and laughing and exchanging high-fives, but Tony suddenly felt once again like a fish out of water. No, he felt like a fish in water that was born without gills. A fish thrown into an environment that hadn't adapted to him. He had to shake himself to get his mind back onto the matter at hand, instead of working out a metaphor that made no sense. Everyone began to head to Steve's room, except Peter, who hung back when he noticed Tony hadn't moved.

With a small smile, Tony told him, "It's alright, kid. Go with them. Go check on Cap."

"Want me to tell him you were here?"

Tony shrugged. "If you want. Take care." He turned and walked down the stairs and out the front doors of the hospital, where Rhodey was waiting for him.

"He gonna be okay?"

"Yeah."

"You gonna be okay?"

"Still up for debate."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Insomniac


	8. Insomniac

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW this chapter was fun to write. Hope you all enjoy it!

Tony took Rhodey back to the tower with him, telling him he could stay as long as he wanted. It was a bit of a shock for Tony to realize that, just twenty-four hours before, he was bringing a group of people back to his bedroom. This had been a long day. The hallway seemed endless as he plodded toward his room at the end of the hall. He paused to yawn and stretch before opening the door and flopping onto his bed with his eyes already closed.

Somewhere in the room, a clock was ticking. The silky sheets of his bed smelled like a mix of cheap perfumes and sex. He was used to this feeling, the way the overwhelming silence wormed its way into his head until all he wanted to do was run. For someone who hated distractions and attachments, he had to admit that the only time he felt truly able to fall asleep was when someone else was talking or holding him. It was a quirk of his that he couldn't stand. Maybe he should get a dog. But that was stupid, when he spent so little time at home. This was usually the time that he would wander into a bar to get drunk and find someone to fuck. It was the illusion of intimacy, enough so that he could fall asleep for a few hours. Not tonight, though. Rhodey was right; it was time to put himself back together.

There was nothing quite like taking a hard look at his life from eight thousand feet in the air. Tony was working out some kinks in Mark 817, for which he'd been trying to add an element of invisibility. Well, disguise, really, since it blended into the background. He'd taken the inspiration from the Helecarrier, which moved slowly enough to make well-placed reflection devices work to disguise it. For the Iron Man, though? It wasn't as easy as it sounded to mask the armor, and it added weight and reduced his mobility in strange and uncomfortable ways. His flight, at three in the morning, was in part to identify what issues were left, but he also felt far more at home when he was free in the sky than he did anywhere else. It was his happy place.

The team was a mess, there was no denying it. Sure, they had all mostly forgiven each other, but their public image was still a disaster. They'd eventually signed the amended Accords, but a cursory glance made it obvious that they were useless and non-binding, and there was no helping the fact that every major fight came with extensive property damage at minimum. What Tony needed to do was find a way to redeem their image. And he needed to talk to Steve. That one was hard to say even to himself. It wasn't that he was holding a grudge or avoiding the confrontation, because he wasn't, that wasn't his style. It was just...it still hurt to think of Steve slamming his shield into the arc reactor, so much that he had to stop flying in mid-air in order to breathe normally. He didn't want to see Steve because he was avoiding the pain.

He had stopped low to the ground, above a freeway, low enough that he could see a car swerve once, twice. The third time it happened, Tony saw that it was on track to veer off the road and spin out, which would almost certainly lead to the death of whoever was behind the wheel. He saw all this before he even had to tell FRIDAY to calculate the probabilities, and he raced to land where he could catch the car before it hit any trees or, worse, other cars. Just in time, he managed to grab hold of the front bumper and slow the momentum, not too fast, to stop the spinning with minimal damage to the driver. Almost as soon as the car settled, a girl spilled out and threw up on the side of the road. She was young, probably college-aged, and had suffered only minor cuts and bruises, according to FRIDAY's scans. After she had finished vomiting from the dizziness and the stress, she rolled to the side, curled up into a ball, and began sobbing.

Tony was never great with this part. Action, yes, but tears? Not so much. Though he didn't imagine a guy in a metal suit was a particularly good source of comfort, he took a few steps closer to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "What's your name?" he asked. When he spoke, he realized that his mask was still on, so he took it off.

From her spot on the ground and through tears, she moaned, "Alex."

Tony sat down to the best of his ability (stupid inflexible cloaking technology) and told her, "Okay, Alex, look at me and take three slow breaths." Her mascara had smudged around the edges and her face was red and blotchy from all of the crying, but she did what he said and seemed to calm down enough to speak. She was still shaking, though, enough that he could hear her teeth chattering.

"I–" she tried to begin, but the sobs were still stuck in her throat. She had to whisper in order to continue. "It was finals week. My last final finished at 10 pm today, and my friends and I went out to celebrate. I didn't drink anything, and I was going to stay at school tonight, but my boyfriend broke up with me and I just had to go home. But I was so tired and I–I fell asleep, and the next thing I knew my car was spinning and I–" She stopped then as the tears welled up again. Tony nodded slowly and watched her while she calmed down again.

"Why'd your boyfriend break up with you?"

Alex laughed bitterly. "He said it was because he's studying abroad next year, but I know he's been cheating on me with his chem lab partner."

"He sounds like a dick," Tony replied, very matter-of-factly. She nodded and looked over at her car, which was dented from Tony's handprints.

"I was going to die. If you hadn't been here, I would've hit those trees and I would've died." This, for some reason, didn't make her cry, but Tony didn't want to risk it by telling her she was right.

"Where's home?"

"Just about an hour north of here."

And where was here? FRIDAY informed him that they were about twenty miles outside of New York City, so Tony made a call. "Hap? Sorry it's so late, buddy, but I just sent you my location. I need you to come out here and pick up a car for me and take it back to my workshop so I can fix it up. Thanks, Happy." He turned back to her. "You afraid of heights?"

"No, not particularly," she replied. It occurred to him that she hadn't been a bit phased by the fact that a celebrity and a superhero had saved her life, but decided to chalk it up to the effects of shock.

"Alright, what's your address?" She told him, and he picked her up and took off. It only took about ten minutes to reach her house, the first five of which she spent alternately screaming or hiding her face against him. By the second half, though, she was starting to look down while they flew, and Tony felt oddly pleased to be sharing his happy place with another person.

When they landed, he asked her, "Do you have a key to get in?"

"Umm...no," she replied, shaking her head. "I left it in my car." Tony turned his back to her and, ten seconds later, pushed the door to her house open for her. Instead of going inside, though, she just stared at him with her mouth slightly ajar.

"What? Going to file charges for breaking and entering?"

"You–you're Iron Man. You're Tony Stark. I almost died and then Tony Stark saved my life and broke into my house."

"Well, there were some more details in there, but, yeah, I guess that's the gist." Alex began to laugh, so hysterically that she started to cry again and seemed unable to stop. Tony, uncomfortable, said, "Alright, so my job here is done. No more driving at three a.m. I'll bring your car by soon." He put his face mask back down and prepared to leave, but Alex called out, "Wait!" She ran to him and, still giggling, pulled him into a hug, his second one of the day.

"I hadn't said thank you, yet." She smiled up at him, then turned around and entered her house.

As Tony watched her, it hit him that she was laughing and in shock and going to have to explain to her parents where her car was, and it was all because of him. Because he'd saved her life. He smiled to himself as he took to the air again. He had an idea about how to rehabilitate the Avengers' image, and, lucky for him, he was already close to the mansion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Bath (again, wtf???)


	9. Bath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this might be a good time to mention that I don't own any of the characters in this work? Casual disclaimer, if you will.
> 
> Thank you as always for reading and commenting. Also follow me on tumblr if you want to at spirkkisses.

As soon as the clock on the stove hit six a.m., Tony yelled that it was time to wake up and told FRIDAY to turn on all the lights. There would be time to sleep tomorrow night. The team began to spill groggily out of their rooms, universally rubbing sleep out of their eyes and stretching. All except Steve, who, despite the fact that the boot on his foot hindered his mobility, walked into the living room covered in sweat from a workout. Tony began passing out coffee mugs, all prepared to each person's liking (black for Natasha, cream and sugar for Steve, black tea for Wanda, etc.). Everybody was unsurprisingly shocked to see him there, but the early hour or the pure awkwardness stopped them from asking any questions. Yet. There would be time for that later, too.

Left with one empty mug, Tony did a quick head count then asked, a bit exasperated, "Where's Clint?" Shrugs all around. He sighed but instructed the team to wait there before setting out on a hunt. As he checked the rooms, he called Clint's name until the only room left to examine was the bathroom. Of course. So he opened the door, only to find the fully-grown superhero sitting calmly in the bathtub and eating a sandwich.

"Hey, man, can I get some privacy?"

Tony didn't even know how to respond, so instead he picked up a towel and threw it to the edge of the bathtub. "We're having a team meeting. Throw that on and come out to the living room." Clint began to stand, and Tony, horrified, yelled, "WAIT! Wait until I'm out of the room first." He turned his back and made his way back to the living room.

Nobody seemed to have moved. Everyone except Steve sat with eyes half closed, coffee mugs held loosely, as though they would fall asleep before Tony could even start to speak. Or they'd fall asleep after he started to speak, more likely. Steve didn't say anything, just calmly followed Tony with his eyes. Tony tried hard not to focus on how weird the whole situation was while he poured coffee for himself into the last empty mug and took a deep sip.

"Tony?" Steve asked, his voice low and gentle. "What's this about?"

"Hold on, I want to wait for Clint." A few seconds later, the man in question turned the corner, still dripping wet and with a towel wrapped around his waist. He flopped down, half on Natasha and half on the actual couch, then elbowed her and told her to move over. Tony took a deep breath. Everyone was here now, and they were all more or less awake.

"So. I've been doing some thinking recently." Very, very recently. Until yesterday, he'd been doing his best not to think at all, but that was beside the point. "The Avengers haven't really been able to redeem themselves in the public eye in the last year. I want to fix that."

Natasha groaned. "Ugh, you're not going to make us do team building exercises or something, are you?"

Tony raised an eyebrow, unamused. "Definitely not. No. Here's what I'm thinking. The root of the problem is the death and destruction we leave behind. We try to prevent as many civilian deaths as we can, and there's only so much we can do for now. But, I have an idea about the destruction. I'd like to found a construction company to clean up the city. It will be completely financially supported by Stark Industries, but here's the best part. I just got off the phone with Patsy Walker twenty minutes ago, and she's trying to start a low-level Heroes for Hire business, where super-powered people can use their powers to help out. She wants to set up a contract to partner her business with this, so we'd be providing jobs to civilians and superheroes while showing that superheroes don't just cause mayhem!" With a giant grin on his face, he surveyed the room and waited for everyone to realize how exciting this was.

Steve chimed in first. "Well, that's great, Tony, but I don't see how the Avengers fit into this plan."

"Did I forget to say? We're going to help, too! Assuming you're all willing. We always rush off after battles, but I think this would be a great opportunity for us to stick around and help with damage control. Which, incidentally, is what I want to name the company. Damage Control." At that, Steve shot him a smile. It was small, barely a hint of it on his lips, but there was so etching in his eyes that conveyed just how impressed and pleased he was, and Tony couldn't help the strange butterflies that rose in his stomach.

"That sounds amazing, Tony. I think it's exactly right," Steve said, and Tony's heart did a little somersault. This felt oddly normal, but not, because everyone, the Captain especially, was finally listening to him and recognizing that he was more than just good looks and truckloads of money. He looked around at everyone nodding and felt deeply that this was going to be something healing and just deeply, inherently right.

Vision spoke up then, and his voice was tinged with something that sounded like hope. "I noticed that you used the word 'we' when referring to the Avengers."

Tony bit his lip before replying, "Well, that was the other thing I wanted to talk to you all about. I would like to come back, but there are a few things I need to say first." Over the course of the meeting, and due to coffee, probably, everyone had woken up. The eyes trained on him were alert and focused, and when he made eye contact with Natasha, she smiled and nodded. Weird. "So, first of all, I would like to officially apologize to every single one of you. At some point over the course of our knowing each other, I have done something to hurt you, and for that I am sincerely sorry. I recognize that this is a blanket, group apology, and anyone that feels deeply hurt can talk to me individually. Second, though, is...more awkward. For me, at least." He took a deep breath and looked down at his hands. "For my whole life, everyone has treated me like I only matter because I have money. I spent my whole life trying to prove that I was a person behind all of the money, but it never worked, and eventually I stopped trying and hid behind it instead. After I created the Iron Man, I finally felt like I had a genuine purpose and worth that went beyond my business, that actually helped people. But in the past few years, I've felt that you all only see Iron Man, the way everyone used to see only money. So, um, I guess my point is that I want it to be clear that I'm a person, too. Also, if I come back I'm bringing Rhodey with me, assuming he wants back on the team, which I'm pretty sure he does."

The ending had been weak, petering out as Tony became more and more self-conscious. It was so beyond hard for him to admit to them even a fraction of the sense of worthlessness and insecurity he often felt. The most confusing part was that he still felt more purpose being in the Avengers than he ever had before the team got together, meaning that no matter how bad it got, he couldn't help but want back in. He knew that, if they could get past this, they could do even more incredible things than they had done so far. It just depended on their reactions.

Peter, predictably, was the first one to respond, clambering to his feet and racing to throw his arms around Tony. This kid had to stop hugging him, or he would start craving emotional intimacy, and that just was not his style. Steve was next, and everyone watched him expectantly, knowing that his response would determine their next move. Tony's eyes flicked up to meet Steve's, then dropped back down to his hands. He felt more anxious than he had been since he was a kid trying to get Howard to pay attention to him. It was overwhelming, how similar that feeling was to the situation he was in now. If he had to guess, he'd say the constant comparisons to Captain America had given him a complex and made him think inevitably of his father whenever Steve was around.

At first, Steve didn't say anything, just put a hand on Tony's shoulder and smiled at him. Then, without warning, he wrapped Tony in another hug, just about surprising the pants off of the huggee. It was short, and a Tony noticed that the team's faces were masks of confusion, but it said more than words could, and it was enough. Before walking away, Steve whispered just to Tony, "Missed you," then moved out of the way so other people could come forward. There were high-fives and handshakes and slaps on the back, and luckily no more hugs, and Tony called Rhodey to tell him that they were back on the team. While everyone celebrated, Tony and Steve made eye contact and smiled at each other, and it felt like the team was finally in the road to recovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Homo (lol I wonder what will happen there)


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